Closure
by Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs
Summary: Rachel came, seeking closure. Her quest spurs Gibbs to make a trip to the cemetery, where he confides in an old friend. Slight spoilers for the newest episode 'A Man Walks Into A Bar...'. Jibbs, short, with a touch of sadness.


A/N: I don't know who watched the newest NCIS episode, 'A Man Walks Into A Bar…", but I loved it, and I got inspired. It's short, but I didn't want this to be drawn out.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to NCIS at all.

* * *

As Gibbs watched Rachel walk up his basement stairs, turning back once to send him a small smile before continuing up, he sighed, setting his head in his hands as he relaxed against his work bench.

Seeing Rachel had stirred up so many memories.

Memories he hadn't thought up in a long time, memories he tried not to think about too much. Memories of women that were gone, and that he couldn't bring back.

He sighed, seeing both Kate and Jenny in his mind's eye, closing his eyes as the images danced across his vision. It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to remember them, and he was reminded of why when the dull ache started in his chest where his heart was.

He hadn't let himself stop and grieve, really, for either woman. With Kate's death, he had just pushed forward, throwing himself into work. Ziva giving him Kate's sketchbook had eased the ache a little, and he knew Kate wouldn't have wanted to go out any other way. But Jenny was another story entirely.

Jenny had been ripped from his life; taken without reason or explanation. In the middle of desert, with only Mike Franks as her backup, Jenny's death had been, apparently, to keep him safe. While he appreciated the sentiment, he'd rather have Jenny back, to be honest.

He swallowed hard, images of Jenny swirling around his brain, too much to bear.

"This a sign, Jen?" he asked to the empty basement, his voice slightly hoarse. "You tellin' me you want me to visit?"

And with that, he grabbed his car keys and headed out to his car, the cemetery his destination.

* * *

Pulling into the cemetery a short while later, he stepped out of his car, the orchids wrapped in clear plastic, protecting the precious pink blooms. He tugged his coat closer, the spring air chilly.

He made his way to the plot, having been there countless times before. He knelt by the grave, brushing his fingers over the name, wiping at the dirt and grime that had collected on the tombstone.

"Hey Jenny," he said softly, his eyes lingering on her name, the cursive letter curling together, reminding him of her curly script, the way she'd sign reports.

The way she'd started her letter. Both the finished and unfinished one.

"Kate's sister came today," he continued, taking out the dead flowers that were in the stand and replacing them with the fresh orchids. The dead flowers had once been black roses, and so Gibbs suspected that Abby had visited. She talked about her visits to 'Mommy's grave'; she went every few weeks, taking care of the headstone and 'updating Jenny' on the going-ons of NCIS. She took Tim, sometimes, and although Gibbs knew that Tim felt awkward, expressing his feelings about Jenny, Gibbs knew it was important to the younger man that they went.

He knew that both Tony and Ziva had gone as well; he'd come before and found a box of conversation hearts, which had been a favorite of Jenny's and Ziva's, and he'd come before and seen Tony there already, standing a few feet back from the grave, silent. Gibbs hated that the agent blamed himself; he'd torn himself up over it, and while it had taken Gibbs some time to shove aside his feelings, he didn't blame the younger man. He hated to see him beating himself up.

"I think it really affected Tony," he said, kneeling on the moist ground, adjusting the orchids. "Made me miss Kate a whole lot. And you too, Jen."

Ducky had been the one to send Gibbs to Jenny's grave the first time; Gibbs had blatantly refused to have anything to do with her grave. Because accepting that that was her grave was like accepting she was really dead, and that she was never going to come home, and tease him, and flash him that smile that made him melt. But she was gone, and she couldn't come back, and he'd needed to accept that.

So Gibbs had come, standing awkwardly on the grassy grave, staring at her name, the date of her death, the description. There was no 'Loving Wife, Loving Mother' inscribed in the stone; no, instead, there was 'A Faithful Friend and Director, Forever in our Memory. She will be missed'. An acceptable description, he supposed, but if he could, he'd go back and change it.

"You should see the team Jen," he said, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Tony and Ziva are still stepping around their feelings, and Tim and Abby are still talking technological mumbo-jumbo."

It felt good, coming here every so often and telling her how he felt. To get things off his chest he couldn't tell anyone else. Jen had always been the person he could bounce things off of, who he could talk to without judgment. He missed that.

He missed her.

"I miss you, Jen," he said softly, touching her name gently with his fingertips, sighing. "I wish I could see you again, just once. Tell you how I feel. Wish I'd had the chance."

There were so many 'if-only' situations; he must have gone through all of them hundreds of time. If only he'd stayed when she offered. If only she'd told him she was sick. If only she'd told him what was going on after Decker's funeral. If only he hadn't been so damn hard headed all the time.

If only they'd had a second chance.

But he'd beat his head against the wall too many times, and he had come to accept that life just hadn't dealt them the right cards. Paris had been their moment, and no one could take that away. They may not have had much of a future, but they'd always have their past, and he would content himself with that knowledge.

"I'll come back soon Jen, I promise," he said, touching his fingertips to his lips and then placing them on her name, pressing his fingers into the stone, sealing the kiss in.

He would probably never have complete closure from Jenny's death. But coming here, talking to her, his heart felt a little lighter, and he walked to his car, letting out a breath.

Until next time.


End file.
